Oh, my heart’s arrogance
It’s constant need to weed
The never-ending prideful bent
That grows from endless seed.
For deep within all of us,
We in our self-sufficient way
Cosmically declare ourselves
Able to wander and to stray.
But at the foot of the cross
We shrink to our true size
For only there in divine rescue
Do our hard hearts realize
That we have need to prune
The growth of self-rightousness
As we stand convicted
With bowed head and brokenness.
Oh, how great His mercy.
Oh, how great our need.
That He, the great gardener
Tends to our every weed.
He waters, and he pulls
With great loving care
While often we go on our way
Forgetting He is there.
How lovely are the times
I enter the garden of my soul
And let my tender gardener
Refresh me, to grow whole.
